


Rough Side of the Mountain

by Donovanspen



Series: Walk Through the Valley [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2011, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Protective Dean Winchester, Rape/Non-con References, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donovanspen/pseuds/Donovanspen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bobby is injured on a case, Dean has no choice but to ask for help from a newly de-souled Castiel. Concern for Bobby’s welfare and watching Castiel deal with his own painful issues has Dean reevaluating the importance of family.  Story picks up after Season 6 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 2011 DCBB.  
> link to awesome art by frayed1989 - http://justdepends.livejournal.com/15098.html

Dean followed the winding road, apprehension knotting his stomach. He eased up on the gas as he barely managed to avoid a particularly deep pothole. The last thing he needed was to mess up his alignment. The road was crap, and it would be dark soon. He slowed down to a stop as he came up to a fork in the road. Glancing over at the map on the passenger seat, he double-checked his directions. The cabin should be another two miles up the road. 

Veering off to the left, he continued on his way. Uneasy with the quiet, he reached over with his right hand and picked up his cell phone and scrolled down to Sam’s name.

“Hey Dean. You there yet?” Sam answered before a complete ring was made.

“Not yet. Almost. Just wanted to see if you came up with anything new.” Anything that would let him turn around right now.

“No,” Sam sighed. “I’m still hitting it hard but coming up empty. We need some help.”

The knot in his stomach gave a violent twist. He’d been hoping for something, anything that would make this trip unnecessary, hoping for some good news.

“Dean, you still there?”

“Yeah, Sam. I’m here.”

“Look, if there was any other way, but we’re stuck.”

“Yeah. I know. How’s Bobby?”

“The same. Right now, he’s holding his own so that’s something, but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

And there it was. He would do whatever needed to be done because this was Bobby they were talking about. He deserved at least this much.

“Dean.”

He immediately bristled at the sympathy that he could hear pouring through the connection. He couldn’t handle that on top of everything else. “All right. I see it. I’ll call you later.” He pressed ‘End’ before Sam could respond. 

At least he wasn’t lying. He had made the final turn and had pulled up the drive leading to the small hunting cabin. He turned off the ignition and sat for a moment, taking everything in. The tiny cabin sat in a small clearing. The door was closed, and there wasn’t any sign that there was anyone else out here. Still, he’d driven for six hours and this needed to be done. 

He exited the Impala and headed towards the front porch. He climbed the steps and knocked on the door before he could stop himself. Two short raps and then he waited. When he didn’t receive an answer, he leaned over and glanced through the front window. Even with the fading light, he could see most of the room, but nobody was there. He turned around to head back down the steps and stopped short when he saw him. 

It had been three months, two weeks, and four days since he had last gazed into those blue eyes. He thought he was ready for this, but he really wasn’t. 

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas.”

They watched each other. It was a shock seeing his former friend as he appeared now. He was wearing a faded t-shirt, ratty jeans, and work boots. His hair was still its usual unkempt mess. Cas had never looked neat and pressed, but now without his familiar clothing, he took disheveled to a whole new level.

Cas’ expression was just as guarded as his own. Couldn’t say he blamed him. After all, the past year had not been kind to either of them, and if Bobby didn’t need him, Dean didn’t think he’d even be here.

“How did you find me?” Cas began walking towards the porch.

Dean didn’t answer but frowned as he noticed that Cas seemed to be taking slow, deliberate steps.

“Of course.” Cas seemed to have answered his own question. “Why are you here?”

“Bobby. We need help.”

Cas arched a brow but otherwise remained silent. He stared at Dean for a moment, and then turned and walked into the cabin, leaving the door open behind him. Dean followed him in.

The room was small and sparsely furnished. A small kitchenette, table and chair combo, sofa, full-sized bed and a fireplace were all the creature comforts the cabin boasted and yet it was more welcoming than most of the motel rooms that he and Sam rented.

Castiel wasn’t saying anything, and Dean was having a hard time reading him. He waited as Cas flipped on a small lamp, and then took a seat at the kitchen table. It didn’t escape his notice how he favored his right leg as he eased down into the chair.

“Well?”

“Bobby was working a case, guys getting mutilated but no physical evidence left behind. Whatever it is got Bobby. He cut himself up, and now he’s in some kind of trance. Doctors think he’s shut down due to whatever trauma tried to make him castrate himself.”

He took a seat in the chair directly across from Cas and waited. He could see that he was thinking it over, trying to sort out the information until it made sense. He’d seen that expression at least a hundred times, and it hurt like hell to see it now. There had never been carefree times in their shared past, but Dean still missed the angel who had once been his friend. And to see that expression on someone who was practically a stranger now…..

“How do you know it’s not?”

“What?”

“What the doctors stated?”

“Because, this is Bobby. He’s seen some wild shit, and it’s never made him want to cut off his balls and go hide in his head. Plus, all the victims had their family jewels cut completely off. That’s too big of a coincidence.”

“Are they also catatonic?”

“Nope. Dead.”

Cas was quiet for a moment before shaking his head. “I know of some pagan gods that may be accepting sacrifices, but I have no way of knowing who it is or if they’re even involved here.”

Dean muttered a curse. Ok, so it wasn’t an easy answer. It never was.

“Ok, Bobby’s notes said ancient, and Sam is still trying to find a connection with the victims.”

“Perhaps, there’s something in Bobby’s library.”

“We don’t have time to go all the way to South Dakota and start pouring over books for a maybe. We don’t know how this will affect Bobby. We have to kill this thing now, and break its hold.”

“I don’t know how I can help you. I already told you what I know.”

“Then come with me. Sam needs me there. I can’t keep driving all the way out here every time we get a new lead.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you kidding me? After everything that’s happened, you’re going to say no?”

“Dean, I’m not…my powers… I do not have the ‘mojo’ to help you.”

Everything about Cas indicated that he was powerless, but he would take what he could get. “Yeah, but Sam is at a dead end, and Bobby’s out of commission. You’re a walking encyclopedia of the supernatural and right now, I need all the help I can get.”

“Dean.”

“Dammit. It’s Bobby. Are you so pissed that you’ll just let him die? Is it because I’m asking? I know you’re hunting, so you obviously care. What the hell, Cas? Are you really that much of a dick?”

Cas stood up so fast that his chair went flying backwards. Leaning forward with his hands braced on the table, he caught Dean’s eye. “You have no right,” he snarled. “I have done nothing but sacrifice for you.”

“No right!” Dean stood and leaned into Cas’ space. “After what you did to Sam, you’re lucky I didn’t end you.”

“You tried. And failed,” Cas hissed before he stalked out the room. 

“Dammit!” He had known this would happen. There was so much between them, so much anger and betrayal. If it weren’t for Bobby, he would get into the Impala and drive off right now. But this had to be done. He’d worked with people he didn’t like, trust, or even respect. He may be at odds with his former friend right now, but he could make this work. He had to.

After taking another few minutes to calm down, he went to find him. Darkness had now settled in, and it took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust. He looked across the clearing and over to the treeline. Dean was fairly sure he’d be able to track him, but he wasn’t in the mood nor did he want to waste time playing hide and seek in the dark. He was just about to head down the steps and check around back when he heard what sounded like a stifled groan. Following the noise, he saw Cas huddled over in the far corner of the porch, his arms wrapped around his waist, as he appeared to be struggling to catch his breath.

“Cas.” Instinct took over and he was at his side before he had a chance to think better of it. 

Cas recoiled and lurched back before Dean could touch him.

“Easy, dude. I’m just trying to help.” Dean held up his hands in a placating gesture, while squinting to see if there was any visible reason for the former angel to be in pain. 

“You’re here for Bobby,” Cas panted while trying to control his breathing. He unfolded himself and leant up against the support beam. “I’m in no need of your assistance.”

“Fine,” Dean snapped, stung. For a moment, he had forgotten everything and had only seen his friend in trouble, but as Cas was quick to remind him, that was the past. “So what’s it going to be?”

“What?”

“What do you want?” he ground out.

“Are you offering me a deal?” Cas taunted.

Dean flinched. “You bastard. You know that I can’t just walk away, not with Bobby’s life in the balance. Hell, whatever got him could be going after Sam while I’m here screwing around with you. So name your damn price and let’s get on with it.”

He expected another burst of anger. Maybe even a little self-righteous speech. What he didn’t expect was for Cas to look at him as if he had just ripped out his heart. It was only there for a split second before the hard infallible mask that Cas was famous for fell back into place. But Dean had seen it, and it burned deep down inside. He wanted to poke at it, push a little harder, like he should have done all those months ago, but now wasn’t the time. 

Cas was still leaning against the post, but he seemed a little steadier now. Whatever had caused his discomfort had certainly taken some of the fight out of him. Dean hadn’t forgotten about that, but that also had to go on the back burner. Right now, he needed to get help for Bobby.

“Look, I’m sorry for how things turned out. Whether you believe that or not, I really am. But people are dying and Bobby and Sam need me. Need us. So name your price.”

“All right. I help you, and then you never contact me again.”


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t pretty but he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. Cas was in the car with him and willing to help with this case. He should be pleased. He’d known when driving out that it was a powder keg situation, and he’d accomplished his objective without any punches being thrown. So mark the check in the box and keep moving, right? Right. 

So why was he even thinking about the fact that something was obviously causing Cas physical pain? And why did it bother him that Cas no longer wanted to see him after this when he’d been reluctant to even confront the fallen angel?

“So you’re not even going to try to make this work?”

“Why? You’ve made your intentions clear. I am here only to assist you, nothing more.”

Dean let his eyes drift over for a moment. Even though Cas was trying to project otherwise, Dean could still see that something was definitely wrong. He could hear the labored breathing, the weariness in his voice, and even in the darkness of the Impala, could see the slight trembling of his body. 

“Dude, if you’re sick, I’ll help you. I’m not that much of a dick, all right? I take care of….” His voice trailed off but not soon enough. 

Cas pushed himself up and stared at Dean. “You take care of your own. Yes, I know.”

Dean tightened his grip on the wheel, frustration burning inside of him. There was no way that he was going to be able to endure the next few hours, let alone days like this. After a quick glance at the rear view mirror, he pulled over onto the shoulder and cut off the engine. He shifted so that he was facing Cas. 

“Look, I told you that I’m sorry about how things turned out, and I mean that. And I meant it when I said you were like family to me.”

“No, Dean. I was never your family. I was your hammer.”

“The hell? That is not true.”

“Yes, it is. As long as you approved of how I used my powers, I was a friend. But if I stepped off my chain and acted outside of what you felt was acceptable, then I became just another supernatural creature to hunt.”

Dean searched for the words to deny Cas’ accusation, but the bitter retort died on his tongue. He wanted to put his hand through the windshield, through Cas’ face. Physical pain would be so much better than the emotional waste that Cas was trying to dredge up, and as much as he hated hearing this, it was striking a cord with him. 

He took another moment to get a grip. As much as he’d prefer a knock-down drag-out blood-letting, it wouldn’t accomplish anything.

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I thought of you as a brother. Come on, you know me. I call them as I see them, Cas. You screwed up. You crossed the line. You made the choice to lie to me. You made the choice to go down that path and make a deal with Crowley. You. So don’t sit here and tell me what I meant and didn’t mean.”

“Yes, I made those choices. And I stand by them.”

“So you’re saying that you have no regrets? That you’d do it all over again?”

“Of course I have regrets, Dean. How can you even ask that? But I did what had to be done. The apocalypse is over. You have your brother back. You have your life to live as you choose.”

“Some choosing,” Dean snorted. 

“Your life as a hunter is not of my making. Even now, I’m standing by you to help your friend. If Bobby had gone rogue, you would be asking me to help you save him. When you believed this to be true of me, did you once ask Sam, Bobby, or even yourself how you could help save me? And even though I had apologized numerous times and healed Sam, you still rejected me.”

“Cas.”

“We should get going. We have a long drive.” Cas shifted and turned his head back towards the window.

Cas didn’t say a word and Dean didn’t try to engage him anymore. The truce they had was uncomfortable, but it was a truce nonetheless. Bobby came first and if there was anything left worth salvaging, they would deal with it afterwards.

Two hours into the drive and the silence was becoming stifling. Dean wasn’t a chatty person by nature so usually he was perfectly fine when people didn’t try to fill the silence with meaningless talk. And he was used to Castiel not being overly talkative anyways. But tonight it was different. There was so much between them and it was sitting like a giant elephant right in the front seat of the Impala. So Dean was beyond thrilled when Sam called.

“So… is everything good?” he asked.

“As well as can be,” Dean answered. “We’re on our way. Should be there by morning.”

“Actually, I managed to find another victim, but he’s not here.”

“What do you mean not here? He’s dead, right?”

“He is but here’s the strange thing. He died in the same way but in a small town near Valdosta, Georgia.”

“Huh. Were there any more killings in that area?”

“Nope. He’s the only one. I’m trying to find the connection to the others but nothing so far. I figured since you were close, you could swing by and check it out.”

“Swing by? Sam, Georgia is in the freakin’ other direction, and I’m already two hours in heading back to you.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, I know.” And he did know. There was no way that he wouldn’t check it out with Bobby’s life hanging in the balance. He got the details from Sam and told him he’d touch base once he got there. He didn’t even bother telling Cas about the change of plans. And Cas didn’t ask.

They were still a few hours away but the burning in his eyes became too much to bear. He pushed on for another few miles until he found what appeared to be a good place to take a break. Shutting off the engine, he leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes. 

“Need about an hour,” he mumbled to Cas, “and then we’ll head back out.”

Good thing he wasn’t expecting an answer as Cas surely wasn’t giving one. He hadn’t said one word since their confrontation.

 

He wasn’t sure how much time had actually passed before he bolted awake and looked around the now empty interior of the car. “Cas?” He glanced in the backseat and saw that his small bag was still there. He peered out the windows, trying to see if he could see anything. 

“Cas?” he called again after stepping out of the car. He was pretty sure that Cas had left willingly as he was certain that he would have heard a struggle. There was just enough moonlight so he didn’t bother with taking a flashlight. He walked around the car and then headed off in the direction that he hoped he most likely took.

Luck was on his side, at least regarding this. He found him doubled over and leaning against a tree. From the coughing and gagging Dean could hear, it sounded as if Cas was getting worse.

“Hey man.” He placed his hand on his back, and like earlier, Cas tried to flinch away. 

“Still just trying to help, man,” Dean grumbled.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, and I’m calling bullshit.” Dean grabbed hold of his arm to steady him as he tried to stand upright. “Stop it,” he snapped, tightening his grip when Cas tried to pull away. “Look, as much as you might hate this right now, we’re in this. I need to know if you’re not one hundred percent.”

Even in the dim light, he could see the angry sneer that Cas sent his way. “I assure you, that I’m well enough to assist you.”

“Right. Try that without wheezing and gasping.”

“It is nothing more than this body adjusting to change. I’ve merely overexerted myself recently. I shall be fine by the time we reach our destination.”

Dean had no choice but to believe him. Not when the only other option was to stand along the side of the road in the middle of the night and argue the point. 

 

 

Unfortunately, Cas wasn’t doing much better by the time they pulled into town. Not even bothering to discuss the issue, Dean checked them into a motel and told him to stay put. He’d received another angry glare, but Cas hadn’t put up an argument. 

Truth be told, he was glad to have some time away from the fallen angel. The things that had happened between them wasn’t something that could just be swept under the rug. And the events of the past were hanging over them heavy and cloying. Dean wasn’t one to open up, even on his best day, but Castiel had mastered stoic and unresponsive.

In the months since he’d defeated Raphael, Cas had not bothered to contact them. No ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘hey, I’m bumbling around down here with the humans so give me a call sometime’. Cas seemed perfectly content to live out the remainder of his existence free of Winchesters.

And Dean really should have the same attitude. Some betrayals just can’t be overlooked, shouldn’t be forgotten. The fact that Cas was getting under his skin was a complication he did not need right now.

Pulling up to the address Sam had given him, he pushed all thoughts of Castiel out of his head and focused on finding out as much as he could about Keith Sutton.

He returned to the Impala feeling better than he had since beginning this case. Keith Sutton didn’t have any close family that was in a hurry to come get his personal effects, and the roommate had been more than willing to allow Dean to take a look. He hadn’t found much of anything except a business card and matchbooks for a local bar. The roommate had been tight-lipped, just wanting everything done and over with so he could rent the room. Dean was hoping that the regulars from the bar would be a little more forthcoming.

Pulling at his shirt, he slid behind the wheel. Man, he hated the South. Either scorching heat or stifling humidity. Today it was the humidity. His clothes clung to him as if he had just been in a sauna instead of a two story walk-up. He’d overheard something on the radio about rain moving into the area; it couldn’t happen soon enough. Maybe it would cool things off a bit, not that he planned on sticking around after tonight.

Heading back towards the hotel, he passed a small local restaurant that looked good. Refusing to give it much thought, he went in and ordered two meals for take-out. Cas was looking a little rough, and Dean needed him on his game if he was going to help them out, nothing more to it. 

Castiel was awake when he returned. His eyes were no longer bloodshot and his skin didn’t look quite so washed out so Dean was counting that as an improvement. 

“Bought you lunch,” he said, dropping the bags onto the table and digging out his container.

“Did you find anything?” Cas asked, taking the other empty seat. He pulled open his box and stared at the grilled cheese before glancing over at Dean’s burger.

“Thought your stomach might be a bit tender,” Dean offered before taking another bite. “Nothing yet,” he said after swallowing. “Roommate said he pretty much only slept there. Kept to himself mostly. I found some matchbooks for a bar here in town so I’m going to check it out tonight.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks, but I think I got this. Just asking some questions.”

“I thought you wanted my help.”

Having a little brother, Dean was well versed in the sulky pouty tone, and Cas was certainly throwing it his way right now. “Less than twenty-four hours ago, you were puking your guts out on the side of the road. I don’t need you tonight so don’t push yourself.”

“Either accept my help or don’t – it makes no difference to me. However, I see no reason to stick around….”

“Fine. Don’t get all pissy. You can tag along but you have to clean up. Lose the homeless look and don’t be afraid to spend some extra time in the shower.”

 

Cas cleaned up pretty well. Dean figured he’d fit in well enough even though there was still something about him that just seemed to shout ‘Yes, I’m different’.

“Just try to blend in,” he told Cas when they walked through the doors.

The bar was like countless other ones that Dean had frequented throughout his life. Country music blared from a jukebox in the corner, and a fog of cigarette smoke hung stagnant in the air. A series of pool tables towards the back caught his eye. He’d start with a drink at the bar before moseying over to the tables. 

“Let me ask the questions. You just hang out at the bar and see what you can overhear.” Cas shot him another look before he headed down to the other end of the bar.

He ordered a beer and took his time nursing the brew while surveying the crowd. He spared a glance at Cas. He still looked a little out of place, but he didn’t seem to be drawing attention so Dean figured he was good to start working the room. 

He carried his bottle over to the tables and tried to get a game going. It didn’t take long. He was up sixty dollars before he decided to test the waters. 

“Man, guess old Keith did me a solid,” he commented as he sunk another ball. 

“What’s that?” asked his dark-haired opponent who had given his name as Tim. 

“Friend of mine used to live here. He talked ‘bout this place quite a bit. Maybe you heard of him, Keith Sutton?”

If Dean wasn’t so schooled in reading people, he might have missed the spark of recognition that flashed across the man’s face. “You know him?”

The man lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “You guys good friends?”

“Depends on what you mean by good,” Dean answered, missing the next shot on purpose. Not wanting to appear too interested, he threw a casual glance over his shoulder to see what Cas was doing.

“I knew him,” the other man replied, drawing Dean’s attention back to him. 

“Shame how he died. No man deserves to go out like that. They ever find out who did it?”

“There’s been talk but that’s all it was.”

“Well,” Dean said, getting ready to take his turn again. “My Daddy used to say that there was a bit of truth in every bit of talk.” He looked up just in time to see Tim motion to someone across the room.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing. You asked about Keith, but he had some enemies in here so you may want to keep it down. But a friend of mine knew him real well. He could probably tell you what happened.”

“All right, I’m game.” Dean knew something was off, but at least he was making some kind of progress. He followed Tim through the bar and out to the back alley where not just one, but three other men were waiting. He turned around to ask Tim what the deal was only to find him disappearing around the corner.

“Shoulda seen that coming,” he muttered to himself as he sized up the remaining three men. The two medium ones wouldn’t be a problem but the taller, heavier one might give him a run for his money. 

“Something I can do for you gentlemen?”

“Hear you been asking questions.”

“No crime in that.”

“It is around here.”

Getting tired of the little dance, Dean decided to get right to the point. “Now you boys wouldn’t happen to know how ol’ Keith ended up singing soprano, would you?”

“Sutton finally got what he deserved.”

“I don’t know, guys. I’ve seen a lot of stuff in my day, and I ain’t ever seen anything worth cutting off a man’s balls.”

“Bet you wouldn’t be saying that if it was your sister that got raped, huh Marks?” piped up one of the smaller guys.

“Shut up,” the large man hissed, shooting a glare at the smaller man.

“Huh, so it sounds a bit like someone was looking for a little payback,” he mused.

“You should be more careful choosing your friends.”

“He does all right.”

Dean didn’t turn around, although he was surprised to hear Cas’ gravelly voice join them. Apparently, his three companions were also surprised and felt threatened by the new addition. Dean managed to swerve just in time to only be clipped in the jaw by Marks.

With Castiel taking on one of his opponents, the odds were now more in Dean’s favor, and it didn’t take long for him to get the upper hand. Rubbing his sore knuckles, he turned to see how Cas was holding up when a body slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. Dean quickly overpowered him and was on his feet wondering how this guy got past Cas. 

His breath hitched in his throat when he saw Cas sprawled out on the pavement, bloodied and not moving. He raced over to him, relieved to find him still conscious. He briefly checked him over, making sure that none of the wounds were life-threatening. Satisfied that Cas would live, he helped him to his feet.

He ignored the way he felt Cas’ body stiffen from his touch. He chalked it up to the poor guy just getting pummeled and not welcoming any type of contact at the moment. There was no way that he’d be able to stay and question those guys now, though, but he had found out something pretty significant about Keith Sutton. As soon as he got Cas settled in to the passenger seat, he sent a quick text message to Sam.

He held his tongue all the way back to the motel, his mind replaying the events of the past twenty-four hours. The more he thought about it, though, the angrier he got. Any idiot could see that things were different. And they should be. Going nuclear after swallowing down fifty thousand monster souls was bound to have an effect. And yeah, he was still pissed off about that because, dammit, Cas should have listened to him. 

But what was really pissing him off was right now - Cas’ constant insistence that everything was fine when it obviously wasn’t. And maybe there was too much bad blood between them for things to go back to the way it was, but at least he was trying.


	3. Chapter 3

“Stop,” Cas grunted, trying to pull away when Dean grabbed hold of his arm to help ease him out of the car. “I do not need any help.”

“You know, I’m hearing that an awful lot and seeing as you just got your ass handed to you, you might want to change your tune. Now get in the damn room.”

Cas stepped through the threshold and yanked his arm free, stumbling as he tried to regain his balance.

“So, what the hell was that?”

He’d been trying, he really had, but he just couldn’t do it any longer. He knew that Cas was out of sorts and hadn’t been feeling well, but to take a beating like that? Even on his worst days, Cas would usually come through in a pinch. Now, the former angel was hobbling around the motel room clutching his chest, which must hurt like hell judging from the way he grimaced. 

“I told you to stay put tonight, but you never listen to me,” he grumbled, closing the door behind them. Cas had only made it as far as the bed, and Dean watched as he gingerly lowered himself to sit on the end. 

“Dean.”

The low gravel was a warning that Dean chose to ignore. Instead he kept up his little rant about the fight until Cas surprised him by pulling himself up to face him.

“You should be grateful that I’m helping you.”

“You call that help?” he scoffed. 

“Yes.”

“Awesome job.”

“Ungrateful as always. It is never enough for you. It’s because of you that I’m in this condition.”

“Whoa, back up, because I distinctly remember saying opening purgatory was a bad idea.”

“That’s right, Dean, you did and that’s all you said,” Castiel blew out an annoyed huff. “Twenty-four hours, Dean, against an archangel considerably stronger than me. What would you have done? Hold my hand while we all hid together? Oh wait, no, you don’t do that affection thing. You humans,” he snorted, “so free with your bodies to pursue physical gratification, but you won’t offer the simplest act of affection when it means something.”

Dean was pretty sure he was missing something here, but he was distracted by the beads of sweat dotting Cas’ forehead, and the way his eyes were pinched in pain. The guy was pretty beat up. Bright red droplets had started to fade to a dull red color where his lip was split and the bruising on his cheek was becoming a vivid purple. He should really get him some ice.

“We would have found another way, Cas. We always do.”

“Your arrogance is galling. Yet again, you discount the centuries I’ve existed, battling evil in favor of your mere years,” Cas broke off with a pained gasp, his eyes squeezing shut.

Dean caught him as his knees buckled and helped ease him back to where he was sitting on the bed. 

“Cas, you okay?”

He wasn’t throwing up which was a plus, but he really didn’t look good. “Cas,” he tried again. “You gonna make it?”

Cas’ answer was a soft gasp as he buried his face in his hands.

Dean clenched his jaw and refused to think of how he’d never before seen this once powerful being so fragile. He tried to get Cas to move his hands away from his face and look at him, but he wouldn’t do it. “Come on, man. I need to see what’s going on.”

This time a low groan was his answer. Not getting anywhere, he got up and got a washcloth from the bathroom. Soaking it in cold water, he headed back towards the bed, stopping to grab some painkillers from his bag. 

“Here man.” He ran the washcloth across the top of Cas’ forehead and into his hairline. He hoped that the feel of the cool cloth would encourage Cas to lower his hands so he could bathe off his entire face. Instead, he let out a low keening wail and rolled away from Dean to curl up into a rigid ball.

“Shit! Cas!” He crawled up the bed and leaned over him, trying to get a glimpse of his face, but Cas was coiled tight with his face buried in the pillows. “Dammit, Cas, talk to me. What’s going on? What do I do?” He tried to pull Cas towards him, uncurl him or at least get his arms down but he just clenched up tighter, his breath coming out in harsh pants.

Panic and fear clawed at Dean. If it were Sam or Bobby, he would know exactly what to do, but he’d never once had to patch Cas up. He wanted him to tell him what to do, how to make this better for him. Guilt snuck up and sucker punched him as he realized that he had been watching this build and had done nothing. 

“All right. That’s it. We’re going to the hospital.” He scrambled backwards off the bed and tried to pull Cas into his arms, but the other man did his best to pull away.

“N…no…” he gasped. “No.”

“Cas, come on, you’re not an angel anymore. And you won’t tell me how to help you. This isn’t normal.” He reached for him again, sliding his arms under his bent legs, bracing himself to lift him off the bed into his arms.

“Wait.”

“Cas, so help me, I’ll knock your ass out if you keep fighting me,” Dean grumbled, tightening his grip as Cas tried to roll free without really unclenching himself.

“I’m not human.”

Dean froze. It was uttered so softly amongst the harsh panting that he was sure that he was mistaken. “What?”

This time Cas was able to roll free from Dean and turn over onto his side so that he was now facing him. With his arms lowered, Dean could now see his face was still scrunched up from pain, but Cas was looking at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not human,” he whispered.

“The hell?” Dean backed away so fast that he actually fell off the bed. He jumped up, staring at Cas. “What’s wrong with you? What are you?”

“It’s still me. It’s just the taint from the souls. Once my grace purges all of it, I’ll be fine.”

It was the first time that Cas had looked openly at him since he found him at the cabin. His eyes were wide and pleading, and Dean saw ‘his Cas’. But it was too much. Dean shook his head and backed away. Cas had him on the roller coaster from hell and he needed a moment. 

“Dean?”

“It’s….I … just need some air. I’ll be back.” He turned and walked out but not before he saw the anguish on Cas’ face as he turned away. With the image of Cas curled up in pain, his blue eyes filling with tears, burned into his mind, Dean made his way to the first bar he could find.

 

 

Dean awoke with a gasp, sucking in deep breaths and reaching for the knife under his pillow as his eyes scanned the darkened room. He listened to the quiet; his body still tensed and his stomach still cramped. As he adjusted to the darkness, the only thing that he could see was Cas’ sleeping form. That calmed him a little but it wasn’t enough. Satisfied that there was no imminent threat, he tried to figure out what had happened. 

Memories poured over him, and bile rose in his throat as images from his dream floated through his mind. Choking back a gag, he stood on shaky legs and made his way over to the sink. He splashed cold water over his face and took deep breaths in an attempt to dispel the nausea.

He glanced back over at Cas who had begun making small whimpers while moving restlessly in his sleep. Seeing him like that brought on another wave of dizziness. He clenched his eyes tight and tried to get himself under control. When he was sure that he wouldn’t throw up, he walked gingerly back to his bed. 

He felt it like he always did, before they were ever really there. There was a slight tingle along the back of his neck that had nothing to do with his queasy stomach.

“Hello, Dean.”

It had been a long time, but there were some beings that you just never forgot. “What do you want?” He felt too ill to dredge up even a semblance of manners. 

Joshua didn’t answer but instead turned his gaze to Castiel who was thrashing about even more. He laid a hand upon his forehead and Castiel stilled.

“Seriously? Now? After everything that has happened, the best you can do is wipe out a nightmare?”

Joshua turned back to face him, his eyes glowing. “Do not mistake me for my wayward brother. I will not tolerate your insolence.”

With everything that had happened, and Dean not feeling one hundred percent, he decided to hold his tongue and not shout out all the frustrations that were clamoring to be heard. “Is that why you’re here?” He felt a moment’s panic as the thought crossed his mind that maybe Joshua was here to take Cas away, and not in a good way.

“There is much that you don’t know, Dean Winchester, that you should. Much that has happened revolved around you, and you should know.”

All of a sudden it was clear. “You sent the dream. You put me in Cas’ head.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“For exactly why I just mentioned.”

“So, you send me tiptoeing through Cas’ dreams so I can know how he feels?” There has to be more to this, his mind screamed, years of experience telling him to trust his instincts.

“Why is that so hard to believe? Castiel made his choices based on how he felt about you. He commanded Heaven’s armies in a bid to keep your world safe. It can be said that he did it for humanity, but it would be more accurate to say he did it for you. An angel sacrificed himself for a human.”

“He’s still an angel,” Dean mumbled, still trying to grasp exactly what Joshua was saying about feelings. 

“For now.”

“What?”

“Castiel isn’t fighting off any taint from the souls. He is free of them.”

“So why is he….is he dying?” he asked, horrified.

“No. He is transforming. He’s becoming human. His grace is dying out.”

Dean sat on the bed. He heard the angel’s words, but he couldn’t process them. Cas was an angel. Despite everything, no matter what happened, that’s where he always ended up. That’s who he was. Even when Dean thought of him as human, he still always felt that Cas was still part angel. Hearing Joshua say it made it so final. There had always been a loophole, some way back. And now…. “Can’t you…..”

“I cannot,” Joshua interrupted before Dean could finish the question. “The moment Castiel allowed himself to care so deeply for one particular segment of humanity, he became ineffective as an angel. This was inevitable.”

“Why won’t you help him?”

“Free will. With freedom of choice comes consequences, whether good or bad. Castiel chose this.”

“Well,” Dean began, “if you’re so hands off, why are you here? Why make me feel what he felt?”

“What he’s feeling,” Joshua corrected. “And why shouldn’t you? My brother has sacrificed much for you. You have earned the loyalty of an angel. That is not something to be disregarded.”

“Some loyalty,” Dean scoffed. “Where was that loyalty when he was lying to my face and working with Crowley? Where was that loyalty when he declared himself God and ordered us to bow down to him?”

“You need to appreciate what an angel has given for you, what many angels died to preserve.” Joshua took a step closer to Dean. “Raphael gave Castiel twenty-four hours to submit or die. Understand this, Raphael would have killed Castiel. He simply was not strong enough to even hope to win. And without him, where would you have been? What other angel would have even attempted to pull your brother free from the cage?”

“I know that Cas has done a lot for me, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was wrong and a lot of people got hurt. How am I supposed to overlook that?” Dean asked. A small part of him wished that the angel had an easy answer, one that would make everything better and wipe away the misery that clung to him every time he thought about the events that had pulled him and Cas apart. But he had lived a lifetime and had endured just as many hurts. He knew that there would be no easy answer. There never was. 

“Dean, you stood over the grave of a fallen comrade and declared him family and offered up a clean slate of forgiveness. You told Castiel you considered him to be a brother, yet you have no forgiveness for him?”

Dean hated being backed into a corner, especially when he wasn’t completely sure how he felt. So he clung to his anger and came out swinging. “Cas crossed the line. He went too far. Lisa and Ben were hurt because of him. Hell, Rufus died because Cas pissed off Eve. And if that wasn’t enough, what he did to Sam was the point of no return.”

“And yet, you still ask for his help,” the angel responded calmly. “How you feel is not my concern, but at least you know how my brother felt. Discount it if you wish, but the fact remains that Castiel had a choice and he chose you. He always did and that was his downfall.”

He was gone before Dean could utter a reply.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean returned to the room with two large coffees. He didn’t really need the caffeine even though he hadn’t been able to get back to sleep after Joshua’s visit. He’d spent the past couple of hours thinking about everything the angel had said. There was no easy answer as to how he felt about Cas. He still cared. He really did, but he couldn’t forget about the suffering that Sam had endured. And the time that he spent without his soul. If it was just about the lying, he could handle it. They could work through it. But like he told Joshua, when you mess with Sam, you cross a line.

Cas had slept quietly after Joshua’s mind mojo, but it appeared to be wearing off. He was mumbling in his sleep. Dean couldn’t make out much, but he could hear ‘Raphael’ clear as day.

He was just about to put the guy out of his misery and wake him up when Cas’ eyes flew open with a gasp. They darted around the room, taking in everything before he relaxed marginally with a deep sigh. Dean could tell that he hadn’t noticed him watching him yet and took advantage of observing Cas in this unguarded moment. He wanted to still be angry, to stay in his safe zone. He could work with Cas just like he had worked with other acquaintances, and he wouldn’t have to try to sort out his jumble of conflicting emotions. However, it obviously wasn’t meant to be - seeing Cas in pain, hearing his confession about the souls, and then Joshua’s visit. No, there was no easy fix for this.

“Coffee’s still hot if you want it.”

Cas shifted and looked over at him. It was the first time they had seen each other since Dean had walked out. The haze of pain was no longer in his eyes, and neither was the open vulnerability that Cas had allowed last night. Now, it was back to business as usual with the shuttered and guarded look. 

Cas stood up and slowly made his way towards the table but stopped about a foot away. Dean almost laughed when he saw the familiar head tilt but it was accompanied by narrowed eyes so he knew that what came next wouldn’t be good.

“Who was it?” Cas asked, his voice still rough and hoarse from sleep.

“Joshua. How did you know?”

“He left his grace upon you. I can…see it.”

“Guess that was intentional.”

“What did he want? What was his message?” His kept staring at Dean as if the message was obvious on his body somewhere.

He hesitated, not sure how much he wanted to reveal. “He wanted me to know what had happened during the war, with Raphael.”

“Did he tell you anything that I hadn’t already?”

That was a loaded question, and Dean wasn’t about to be led down the path that Cas had intended. Instead, he went in another direction. He hadn’t been sure of whether to tell Cas but felt that this … this he had a right to know. “Yeah. Yeah, he did.”

Now that he had made up his mind to tell him, he found himself searching for the right words. “Cas, you’re not… the souls are gone. There is no taint from purgatory.”

Dean could see his confusion reflected in his eyes as he tried to figure out what Dean was implying and how it tied to Joshua’s message.

“Cas, your grace is transforming. You’re becoming human. Not just fallen, but one hundred percent human.”

Cas’ eyes widened for a fraction in surprise before he was able to regain control again. Dean had to admire that. Cas pulled it together quickly and was not going to show any weakness. However, now that he knew what to look for, he could see the little signs as Cas struggled to process the news – the slight hitch in his breathing, the way his eyes focused on the coffee cups on the table, the hand furthest away from Dean clenching in a tight fist.

“You ok?”

“I’m fine. Was that all?”

Dean watched him for another minute before finally nodding. “Yeah, that was all.” That was enough. It had to hurt like hell. Cas was cut off from Heaven. A member of his family visited and did nothing more than soothe a nightmare and drop the news, ‘oh hey, by the way, you’re human’.

“We should get moving. My apologies for being too unwell to travel last night.” Dean watched as Cas moved too quickly towards the bathroom, obviously forgetting his injuries. His step faltered as he wrapped his arm around his chest. 

“Hey, easy.” Dean was on his feet and moving towards him when Cas predictably pulled back. 

“I’m….” he stopped short when Dean sent a glare his way. 

“Look, Cas,” he began, not really sure what he was going to say. He was struggling to find the words when his phone buzzed. He didn’t miss the look of relief that flashed across Cas’ face at the interruption. 

“Hey, Sam. Sorry, I didn’t call.”

“Dean,” Sam broke in.

He was instantly on guard. “What’s going on, Sam? You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s Bobby.”

“What happened? Is he all right? Sam?”

“Dean. Calm down and give me a chance to answer. Bobby is ok, better than ok.”

“Is he back?” He couldn’t help himself as the question flew out.

“No, but he is improving. He’s tracking me with his eyes, like he understands. I can see him in there. I don’t know if it’s because Bobby is fighting whatever it is or if the hold is breaking, but he’s slowly coming out of it.”

Dean sank back down into his chair, relief making him dizzy.

“Dean? You there?”

“Uh, yeah, Sam. That’s good.” He cleared his throat and shifted so that Cas wouldn’t be able to see his expression. He felt so raw right now, but Bobby was good. 

“That’s not all. After I got your text last night, I was able to do some more digging. I think I found the connection to all the victims. Three of them had charges brought against them for sexual assault but three others didn’t, including Sutton. But then when you mentioned that he might have raped someone’s sister, I dug deeper and found that there had been accusations made against all of the victims but none of them were ever punished or served any time.”

“So looks like we’re definitely look at a revenge angle.”

“Looks like,” Sam agreed. “I’m doing some research into what it could be, but you may want to ask Castiel also.” Sam refused to call him Cas anymore. He had already made the separation in his mind that their friend Cas was gone, but Castiel could still be a colleague at times. Dean wasn’t having as much luck making that distinction.

“Yeah, I’ll ask him.”

“One more thing,” Sam added. “I found this paper inside of the house of one of the victims. I can’t translate it so I’m going to send you a picture of it. Maybe Castiel can read it, but I need you to go back to Sutton’s house and see if there was anything like that amongst his stuff. You’re not too far away, are you?”

“Uh, actually we’re still here. We didn’t leave last night.”

“Is everything ok? What happened?”

He could hear the concern in Sam’s voice, and he didn’t like it. He needed to be keeping an eye out for Bobby and watching his own back, not worrying about him. “Chill, man. Nothing happened. Cas was feeling a bit rough, and I was tired from driving all night before so I decided to start fresh this morning. Good thing, too,” he added, keeping his tone light. “The roommate was cool so I shouldn’t have any problems. I’ll give you a call as soon as I’m done.”

“All right. If you’re sure.”

“Geez, Sam. You’ve had me driving all over the South. I was just beat. Things are turning around. Don’t look for problems where there aren’t any. Tell Bobby I’ll be there soon.”

He disconnected from his brother and looked over at Cas who was standing over at the sink. He still looked rough. He had his arms braced against the counter as if it was taking everything inside of him to hold himself up. 

“Cas.”

“I’ll be ready in a moment.”

“Nah. I’ve got this one.”

“Dean.”

“Seriously. The roommate is used to me. He might get suspicious if I bring someone else.” It was a lame excuse and he didn’t expect Cas to believe it, but he didn’t challenge it either. He was pretty sure that Cas was actually relieved to have some time to himself, but he still wasn’t sure about leaving him. “Are you gonna be ok?”

“I am fine.”

“No, no you’re not.”

Cas met his gaze through the mirror. His face was a hard line of denial that dared Dean to go on. 

“Drink the coffee and get some more rest,” he ordered. He’d leave him alone for now. They had a good ten-hour drive ahead of them. Plenty of time for Dean to try to get them on an even keel. 

 

It appeared that their luck was finally changing for the better. It had taken him about an hour of going through Sutton’s things, but he had indeed found the letter. With the way that thing reeked, though, he should have found it a whole lot sooner. Dropping the pungent thing into a baggie, he thanked the roommate and headed out. He called Sam on the way back to the motel, grateful to have his mind occupied with the case and not with what was waiting for him back at the room. 

He stepped into the interior, once again grateful to be out of the sweltering heat. He hated the South and was more than glad that they could now leave. He glanced around the room, assuming that Cas was in the bathroom. His eyes landed on the overturned bottle of pills. He picked up the bottle, and estimated how many Cas must have taken by the amount left. Rushing to the closed bathroom door, he tried the knob only to find it locked.

“Cas!” he shouted, pounding his fist against the door. No answer. He dropped his shoulder and began pushing against the door. “Cas! Dammit. Open up.” He could feel the door begin to give a little. He stepped back and kicked. 

The door flew open. Dean didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed off at the sight of Cas standing there. “What the hell?” he shouted. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

Cas just stood there and stared at him with wide red-rimmed eyes. It could have been from the drugs but Dean suspected otherwise. He felt his anger drain out of him and was about to turn tail and run when he saw the marks on Cas’ naked torso. There were dark bruises along his shoulder and chest that must have come from last night’s fight, but Dean could see yellowed bruises along his lower back and the tops of his hips. He knew that he had been hunting, but now he was wondering just how well Cas was actually doing.

He moved closer, and Cas took a step back, although he couldn’t go far in the small room. 

“Easy. I just want to see how badly you’re hurt.”

Cas was exuding nervous energy. If he could have managed, Dean was sure that he would have bolted by now. His eyes tracked Dean’s every movement so he made sure to go slow. He gently reached for Cas, placing a hand on his shoulder as he checked out the various discolorations. 

“I need to see if your ribs are ok,” he mumbled before running both hands down alongside his chest. “Tell me if any of this hurts.”

Cas still wasn’t saying anything so Dean was careful to watch his face. He applied gentle pressure and Cas did little more than tense up so he figured that he was just sore and nothing was broken. Satisfied that there wasn’t any more damage than just bruising, he was about to step back when the shape of the bruising on the upper portion of his hips caught his eye. He couldn’t tell for sure due to the placement of the towel, but it damn sure looked like a handprint. He reached over and nudged Cas who was being surprisingly compliant, and saw the twin bruise on the opposite hip.

He glanced up, hoping to see defiance or anything that would indicate that the marks weren’t what they appeared to be. He didn’t expect to see him with a deep red flush creeping up his neck and his eyes averted. His stomach burned as his mind began leaping to unpleasant conclusions.

“Cas?”

“Dean. Don’t.”

This wasn’t right. Something was off. Hell, everything seemed off. Cycling through everything, Dean tried to sort out the pieces. He grasped Cas’ chin and forced him to meet his gaze. “How many pills did you take?”

Cas’ watery gaze met his. “I don’t know.”

Dean nodded and stepped back. Cas seemed to be affected by the pills and slightly out of it, but not so much that he was in any danger. Still, from now on, Dean would be the one giving them out. 

“All right. I got what we needed so let’s get on the road. We’ll stop and get something to eat.” He stayed near the vanity and pretended to focus on packing up his toiletries so he could watch Cas through the mirror. When he dropped the towel and stepped into his underwear, Dean could clearly see the fading bruises on his hips and upper buttocks. He didn’t know what the hell had happened, but his gut was screaming that it wasn’t anything good. 

It was only 11am and he felt as if he’d been running strong all day. When did Cas become someone that needed his protection?

 

 

The drugs finally kicked in full force, and Cas ended up dozing off and on for the first few hours. Dean kept an eye on him, watching as he fidgeted in the passenger seat. He tried to catch whatever it was that Cas was mumbling, but it was too garbled or in Enochian. The only word that came through clearly and repeatedly was ‘no’.

They stopped for lunch at a roadside gas station that had a small grill attached. Cas was sitting in the shade at an outside picnic table looking over the materials Dean had given him. 

“You didn’t finish your lunch,” he pointed out, reclaiming his seat on the opposite bench.

Cas scrunched up his nose in distaste as his eyes trailed over the half-eaten hot dog. 

“Hey, it may not be five star cuisine, but you need to eat.”

Cas shot another glare towards the hot dog and turned his attention back to the image that Sam had sent. Knowing that he wouldn’t get Cas to eat anymore, Dean gathered up their trash, and tossed it in the nearby bin. He moved Cas’ bottle of water closer to him. “But you are going to finish that. It’s hot as hell out here.”

“Hell is hotter,” Cas mumbled. 

“Got anything?”

“This image that Sam sent to you and the letter are pretty much the same. The differences appear to be that it is personalized for the recipient.”

“So what is it?”

“Many things. I can’t read all of it as I imagine that the author misspelled a few things but got enough right for the spell to work.”

“Spell? So witches maybe? What kind of spell?”

Cas shook his head slowly. “I’m not sure, yet. There are a lot of elements here and again, the author’s knowledge is inconsistent. It is difficult for me to be sure I’m reading this correctly.”

“Any guesses?” Dean pressed.

“I think it might be an account of actions that the author wanted to hold the victims accountable for. Was one of these found near Bobby?”

“No. Sam just happened to stumble across these with two of the victims, but there was nothing like this near any of Bobby’s stuff.”

“That would make sense since he does not appear to have been an original intended target.” Cas opened the baggie and sniffed before Dean could warn him not to. “This also appears to have elements of a summoning.”

“Like a demon?”

Cas huffed out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know, Dean. I can’t recall everything as easily as I once did. I need more time.”

“Yeah, ok,” he relented. After spending the past two days with him, Dean was beginning to be able to read the other man. The furrowed brow and squinting meant that Cas was feeling pain somewhere in his body. The beads of sweat dotting his forehead indicated that he wasn’t feeling one hundred percent. But Dean didn’t bother asking. Why should he? Cas would just say that he was ‘fine.’

“Take a drink,” he ordered, tapping the water bottle. 

Cas glared at the command but still took a healthy swig from the bottle. Cas looked around the rest area as if looking for an escape route. “I need a moment,” he announced as he got up from the table and headed towards the trees around the back of the rest stop. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered. He gathered up his phone and the letter and placed them in his pocket. Taking the bottle of water, he followed Cas. He knew that there had been an unspoken request for privacy but the hell with that. As predicted, he found Cas leaning against one of the trees, heaving up what little food he’d managed to get down today. 

Dean came up behind him and placed a comforting hand on his back as another round of retching began. Propped against the tree for support, there really wasn’t anywhere for Cas to go to get away from him. Dean suspected he was too weak anyway. Another round followed by dry heaves and Cas was finally done. Dean handed him the water.

“Rinse your mouth out first and then take a little sip.”

Thankfully, Cas listened and obeyed without a fuss. 

Dean moved closer and slid his arm around him, trying to take the weight that he had placed against the tree. “Come on. You’ll feel better once you’re sitting down, and we get some wind blowing on you.”

“Dean. Please. Stop.”

“Stop what? I’m just trying to help.”

“Exactly. I do not want nor need your help,” he panted, sucking in deep breaths. “Why are you doing this? I already told you that I would assist you. This is not necessary.”

“Ok. Well, why are you helping me save Bobby?”

“You asked me.”

“Why did you say yes?”

“It’s not the same. There are other people dying. This isn’t personal.”

“Oh Cas, yeah, it is. Now either lean on me and let’s get to the car, or I’ll pick you up and carry you myself. Either way, this ends now.”

“I can walk on my own,” Cas declared, as he tried to move forward on shaky legs.

“All right, carrying it is.”

Seeing Dean’s determination, Cas relented and grudgingly accepted help back to the Impala. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Dean asked once they had got going and the wind blew in through the windows, cooling them off a bit. He wasn’t surprised when he got the silent treatment, but he wasn’t kidding when he said that this ended now. He couldn’t fix everything, but he was going to start closing that distance between them.

“So, Cas. Tell me what’s been going on? How long have you been feeling like this?”

Silence.

“Cas!”

“I’m not giving up so you might as well start talking.” He waited another beat, his frustration mounting. “Seriously, you’re a friggin’ child.”

“I may not be what I once was, but I am still an angel, still a warrior.”

“Yeah, well, gotta say I’m not impressed with what I’m seeing. How long have you been needing to sleep and eat?”

Cas hesitated for so long that Dean didn’t think he was going to answer. “Only when I tax myself. I had just taken on several demons before you found me.”

“Is that where you got the bruises?”

“Yes.”

“And the ones on your hips? Cas?”

“I had tracked the demons to that cabin. They thought it would be entertaining to defile an angel and tried to take advantage of my weakened state. I assure you that I was not compromised.”

“And what the hell is your definition of compromised because it looks like they got pretty damn close.”

“I’m not…they weren’t…..”

“Son of a bitch,” he spat, gripping the steering wheel. He could hear the frustration and embarrassment in the words Cas couldn’t get out and knew that it was a bigger deal than he was letting on.

“Despite what you may think, Dean, I am not helpless.”

He was losing it and the fact that Cas was in denial was only pissing him off even more. Dean knew that the angel was only revealing this much due to a misguided belief that he was proving that he was indeed capable of looking after himself, but he was only showing Dean that wasn’t the case. Cas should have never been manhandled into that situation to begin with. 

“Dammit, Cas. You should have called me.”

“Why would I do that?”

And with those five simple words uttered so emotionlessly, Cas had shut him down. Dean felt the anger seep out of him only to be replaced with a deep sadness. Why indeed? 

“Get some rest.” He leaned over and turned up the volume on the radio, hoping to quiet his thoughts for a while.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam was a big boy and could hold his own. Dean knew this, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a surge of overwhelming relief when he finally laid eyes on his brother. Cas had seemed more comfortable in the car, so Dean had pushed on with the driving, not bothering with any more pit stops.

“Glad to see you in one piece,” he quipped as he got out of the car. He glanced over at Cas who was slowly easing himself out of the passenger seat. He held his breath and watched as Sam and Cas locked eyes for the first time in months. 

“Castiel,” Sam nodded. “Thanks for agreeing to help.”

Dean could see that Cas wasn’t quite sure what came next so he simply returned the nod.

“Go on inside, Cas. I’ll get our stuff.”

Cas hesitated a moment as if he wanted to protest, but seemed to have changed his mind after glancing at both brothers. 

Sam waited until he was in the room before turning wide eyes onto Dean. “Dude, what the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” Dean sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Just life in general is kicking his ass.”

“Is he human?”

“Pretty damn close.” He hadn’t thought much about what it would be like when Cas took that final step. He was playing it pretty close to the vest now so Dean wondered if he would know when Cas finally lost the last bit of his grace. Would it be extremely painful for the ancient being or would it just die out in a whisper? And would Cas even tell him?

“Dean?”

“Yeah, I’m good. How’s Bobby?” He grabbed both duffels from the backseat and started towards to the room. 

“Better.”

He spun around. “Better better?”

“Not yet,” Sam answered with a shake of his head. “He was just more alert than he has been but still, it’s an improvement.”

“Hell yeah,” Dean agreed. “We’ll take what we can get. Man, Sammy, leave you alone for a few days, and you get us all settled in at the ritziest place in town.” He glanced around the room, taking in the kitchenette, living room area and what appeared to be two bedrooms. They had stayed in mini apartments before, but this place was by far the nicest.

“Dude, this town is so freaked out right now. Staying at our usual place on the outskirts of town wasn’t going to instill confidence. Since local law enforcement turned up nothing but dead ends, they’re happy that someone is working the case.”

Cas was already sitting at the small table and going through the files that Sam had laid out, focusing on the papers in front of him and not acknowledging the brothers at all. 

“Hey, man, what do you want to eat tonight? I’m going to head out before everything closes up.”

“Actually, I picked up two pot roast dinner plates from the diner where I ate. They’re in the fridge.”

“Seriously?” Sure enough, there were two containers that smelled heavenly when Dean opened them. “Sam, there just aren’t words.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll just owe me.”

“Hope pot roast is ok for you Cas, and just so you know, if it isn’t, you’re crazy,” Dean called over his shoulders as he went about heating up the plates.

Cas finally looked up from the files, his eyes ghosting over Sam for a moment before resting on Dean. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

“Too bad. You only ate half a hotdog today, and then you puked it back up. You’re eating.” He warmed up both containers. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him but knew that he’d have a respite, as his brother wouldn’t ask any questions in front of Cas.

“Here.” He placed the plate in front of Cas and moved the papers to the side. “Sam can get us caught up while we eat, and then you can read to your heart’s content.”

“Do not speak to me as if I’m a child, Dean.” The severity of his words were greatly diminished by the petulant scowl that appeared when he looked at his plate.

“Then don’t act like one,” Dean snapped, his patience gone. “Look, in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re one of us now and food is kind of a necessity.”

Before Cas could fire back a retort, Sam stood up and grabbed an apple from the kitchen. “Try this,” he said placing the apple down in front of Cas.

“Sam….”

“Dean, if you’ve been feeding him what you usually eat, his system may not be able to handle it. And if he is going to just toss it back up, then better to go with something light. If you can stomach it, Castiel, you might want to try the cornbread also.”

Cas stared at the apple for a moment before he raised his eyes in gratitude. Dean watched the slight interaction, surprised but pleased to see Sam wasn’t as immune to Cas as he claimed to be. It made him feel better to know that he wasn’t the only one dealing with conflicting emotions.

“Thank you, Sam.”

“Yeah, uh, you’re welcome. Ok, so did you have a chance to look at those letters?”

“I did. The translations are imperfect, but they appear to be a list of crimes committed by the victim. There are also elements of a summoning. I think that whoever is invoking this…being is sending the letters to the victim and then casting a spell that would allow the letter to act as a portal.”

“A portal? So this being can appear wherever the letter is?”

“I believe that is the intent. And you say that you did not find one near Bobby before he became incapacitated?”

“No,” Sam shook his head.

“Then he must have gotten close to the petitioner.”

“So where does that leave us?” Dean pushed his plate away and took the folder that Sam was handing over. 

“I’m still trying to put all the pieces together, but from what I can see, every victim so far with the exception of Bobby, had some type of allegation of sexual assault made against them but nothing ever came of it,” Sam reported.

“Right, so we’re looking at the revenge angle.”

“That’s what I thought until I checked out the original victims, the ones who claimed to be assaulted. There wasn’t anything tying them all together; however a few of them had seen this one therapist that works down at the free clinic near the college.”

“Did you check her out?”

“I did, but she wasn’t helpful, held firm about not being able to break privilege.”

“But she’s the only other connection to the assault victims?”

“Some of them,” Sam clarified. “Do you think she’s trying to get justice for her victims? “That’s a pretty harsh hand to deal.”

“Yeah well, violating someone in that way is pretty foul,” Dean answered, shooting a glance over to Cas. “If these guys are going around and using their dicks as weapons, then makes sense that’s what this thing is aiming for.”

“Yeah, suppose. Castiel, are you seeing anything else?”

“There is a name that is repeated.” His frown deepened as he studied the letter. “I do not believe it is correct.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that it didn’t translate correctly, but if the same name keeps showing up, it might give us a lead.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. The letter suggests that the Goddess Agdistis is being summoned to go and mete out justice, but I don’t think that’s what we’re dealing with here.”

“Agdistis?” Dean asked with a shrug. 

“Agdistis was a hermaphrodite who was fathered by Zeus and then later castrated. It has been rumored that after the castration, she would cause kings and royalty to go insane and castrate themselves.”

“Well, that sure as hell seems to fit.”

“I don’t believe this person has truly summoned and channeled Agdistis. It is more likely some other being masquerading as such.”

“Can they do that?” Sam asked. “I mean, whoever’s doing this is being pretty specific.”

“The inaccuracies in the translation would allow for it. I believe it is what you call a loophole.”

“Great, so it could be anything. Is that all you have?”

“At the moment, yes.”

The elation Dean had felt when he thought that they were finally getting somewhere was short-lived. They had a bunch of facts, but they still needed a solid direction in which to go.

“I’m going for a walk,” Cas announced, standing up from the table.

“No.”

“I agreed to help you, Dean, not be your prisoner.”

He watched him, now knowing the signs. He could also see Cas’ frustration starting to build as well as the nausea that would soon overtake him. “Yeah, and still no.”

“Dean.”

“No, Sam. Going for a walk is just Cas speak for I’m going somewhere private to throw up whatever I just ate. He’s in no condition to be out there wandering around. He could barely walk after this last time.” He looked up at Cas, daring him to deny it.

“Take the key, Castiel,” Sam offered, sliding the card across the table, “but try not to be too long.”

“Thank you, Sam. And might I suggest that you do not keep that letter in the room? It is not addressed to you, but may still be sufficient in opening the portal should he or she choose to do so.”

“Oh, good point. Ok. Thanks.”

Dean knew that Sam was waiting for Cas to leave to call him out on his behavior. As soon as the door shut, Sam grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and plopped one down in front of Dean before reclaiming his seat. 

“He’s not coming back for a while, so you might as well spill, Dean.”

He fiddled with the bottle, tracing his fingers through the condensation running along the side. “Joshua paid me a visit last night.”

“Joshua? The angel?”

“Yeah.” He watched Sam’s expression morph from annoyed to skeptical and then back to annoyed. “That’s a hell of a lot of stuff to keep to yourself, Dean.”

“And we’re hunting a psycho monster who’s going around and chopping off nads, so forgive me if I didn’t want you distracted.”

Sam shot him a look, but asked, “So, Joshua came down to plead his case?”

“Not exactly. It was more like he wanted to give me the 411 on the angel war.”

“Did he? It’s over, right?”

“Yeah, it’s over, and he told me everything that Cas didn’t tell us, like just how bad things really were.”

“So, he basically came to tell us why nothing was Castiel’s fault.”

He could hear the anger in his brother’s voice, and while he didn’t blame him, he knew he’d have to tread carefully. “No, not really. He wasn’t in Cas’ corner, but he wanted me to know what part we played in how everything turned out.”

“You’re kidding, right? Look, I owned up to the mistakes I made, we both have. This one’s on him.”

“Yeah, a lot of it is,” he agreed. “Joshua didn’t offer excuses for what Cas did but just showed me why he did it. Sam, he hurt you, and you have no idea how much that burns me up, but nobody other than me and Bobby have done more to save you.”

“He needs us. If it were one of us, he’d help us, Sam.”

“Really? Because I remember he wasn’t too helpful when I needed a soul.”

“He screwed up. He was still trying to help in his own jacked up way. He’s helping now.”

“And you can forget everything, just like that?”

“Hell no. Part of me wants to walk away and never look back – just close this chapter and be done with it.”

“But you think we owe him? Help me out Dean, because I’m not getting it.”

He picked at the label on the bottle, searching for the words to try to describe how he felt. “It’s more than that. He’s part of me, somehow. Without him, I’d still be in Hell.”

“Another angel would have pulled you out.”

“Ok, but would another angel have helped us because I don’t remember having too many allies. And Joshua was right. Cas may have screwed the pooch, but no other angel was going to spring you from the cage.”

“So it is about owing him.”

“Maybe. If the past couple of days hadn’t happened, I’d say maybe or that we’re even. But, it’s more than that.”

“Dean, you’re not making sense. You said earlier that he’s one of us. Do you feel sorry for him, feel responsible for what happened?”

Dean thought about the dream and everything that he had felt, everything that Cas had felt and experienced. And then he remembered how he had felt when he found out that Cas had been working with Crowley and lying to him. 

“Joshua sent me on a mindwalk through Cas’ head.”

“What?”

“Cas has nightmares almost every time he closes his eyes. Last night, Joshua sent me into his dreams. Not just seeing them but also feeling them. I was seeing things through Cas’ eyes. I was him.”

“Whoa. And?”

“And he’s totally wrecked. Sam, he has so much love for us. I could feel it. I felt the agony when he killed one of his brothers. I felt his hatred for Crowley along with his desperation. His remorse for lying to us.” He stopped for a minute to steady his voice. “He was so damn lonely, Sam.”

“Dean, we were there.”

“He honestly didn’t feel it. He was so hurt and frustrated. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him for taking down that wall, but I know where his head was when he did it.”

Sam sighed and shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, but I’m not sure I can forgive as easily as you can.”

“Hold up, you’re not listening. I just said that I don’t know if I can even do that.”

“Dean, sounds like you already have. You haven’t forgotten, but you’ve certainly forgiven.”

He opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he saw Sam’s challenging look.

“Come on, Dean. You may be angry but you’ve slipped into the role of protector, and before you say it, it’s more than just wanting him to be all right for this case.”

He took a deep swallow of his beer but didn’t answer. What was there to say? He was unsure of his feelings beforehand, and Sam’s observations didn’t really help clear anything up for him. 

 

Dean blinked heavily as another burst of lightning filled the room. Now that he knew that the storm was typical southern weather and not a series of omens (Sam double-checked), he was able to relax. The heavy downpour of the rain was lulling him to sleep despite the heavy crashes of thunder. 

He had almost drifted off when he heard the soft moan. Having caught enough glimpses of Cas’ restless sleep, Dean knew that he was experiencing another nightmare. Usually Cas came out of them on his own so Dean didn’t give it much thought. Sure it sucked that the guy was having them, but Cas clearly didn’t want his help. Not that Dean had much to offer in that department. With their lives, horrific dreams were just part of the job description.

The room lit up with another flash of lightning. A boom of thunder sounded ten seconds later. He didn’t hear Cas anymore, though, and assumed the nightmare was over. A soft whimpering sound coming from the living room said otherwise. This one was different enough that he felt compelled to go check it out.

Cas was sitting on the sofa with his arms wrapped around his legs, drawing his knees up to his chest. The window coverings in the living room and kitchen areas allowed more of the streetlight to filter through, and Dean could see Cas’ eyes wide with panic. Another burst of lightning lit the room, immediately followed by a clap of thunder. Cas keened low in his throat and buried his face in his arms.

“Cas? It’s ok, man,” Dean whispered, inching his way over. “You’re safe here.” He sat down and placed his hand on the fallen angel’s back. He didn’t flinch away so Dean took that as a positive thing and began rubbing soothing circles across his back. 

It wasn’t enough, though, as the storm was now overhead and with every flash of lightning, Cas became more and more agitated.

“Come on.” Dean tried to nudge him up. “We’ll go in my room and shut the door. You won’t be able to see the storm.”

Cas lifted his head and looked at him, and Dean wanted to cry. Everything that he had been trying to mask, Dean could clearly see.

“Come on,” he repeated, swallowing back his own emotions, and holding out his hands.

When Cas didn’t take them, Dean gently grabbed his arm and gave a little tug, finally getting him up.

He led him over to the bed and then proceeded to close the curtains and shut the bedroom door. It did block out most of the light, just as Dean had promised. 

Reaching over to the nightstand, he felt around until he found the switch for the lamp. He sat on the bed and looked over at Cas who was in the same position that he’d been in on the sofa. “Cas, it’s just a storm. Nothing bad is happening.” Seeing that words weren’t enough, he moved closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Easy man.”

Unfortunately, his touch had the opposite effect, and instead of calming down, Cas broke out into full-blown stuttering breaths.

“Shit,” Dean murmured, not sure what to do at this point. He wasn’t a hug it out type person and Cas, well, he was worse than Dean. He tightened his hold and pulled Cas to him, allowing him to hide his face in his shoulder. He didn’t try to offer any more comforting words. There just weren’t any sufficient enough to cover all they had been through. 

Dean closed his eyes, fighting the burn that was beginning to build. Yes, Cas had messed up, but there was no way that he should be holding a broken angel in his arms. And Cas would always be that to him, no matter what changes were taking place. 

It wasn’t long before exhaustion caught up with Cas, and he began to slump against Dean’s shoulder. In a move Dean had practiced many times on a young Sammy, he eased them both back until they were lying down. When Cas didn’t protest, Dean realized that he had already fallen asleep. He shifted and slid his arm out from underneath and rolled over. Hearing the soft breaths behind him, he felt a little better. This he could do. 

 

Dean rolled over and glanced at the clock. It was still early but he felt pretty good for the few hours of sleep that he managed to get. He shifted slightly so that he could watch Cas. He also appeared to be having a peaceful sleep. In fact, after Cas had drifted off, Dean hadn’t heard anything from him. Hearing Sam move around in the other room, he slipped from the bed and out of the bedroom. 

“Sleep well?” Sam quipped from where he was sitting at the table sipping his coffee. 

Dean flipped him his middle finger as he walked past on his way to the bathroom. When he returned to the living room, Sam had a cup of coffee waiting for him. 

“You heading out?” The first sip was always the best. He closed his eyes as the warm liquid slid down his throat. 

“I’m heading over to the clinic to see if I can talk to the therapist again, see if I can’t find a closer connection.”

“Give me a minute. I’ll go with you.”

“No, it’s ok. My cover is pretty good. If I bring a partner in now, she might feel cornered. She may open up more if I’m alone.”

“Yeah, but remember what Cas said. Bobby most likely took a hit because he got too close. What if it’s her and she tries to put the whammy on you?”

“It’s broad daylight and the clinic is full of people. And I’ll be with you and Castiel later so I’m already more protected than Bobby was.”

“I still don’t like it,” Dean relented. 

Sam hesitated at the door. “Is he going to be all right?”

Sam was awesome. Dean knew that he could have and most likely should have been ragging on the fact that Cas ended up in Dean’s bed, but instead he was showing concern.

“He’s tough,” he nodded, hoping that he was right in this case.

“Well, looks like he’s thawing towards you a bit.”

If the circumstances of how Cas ended up in bed with him hadn’t been so sad, Dean would have laughed at the expression on his brother’s face. Because in all honesty, he would have been thrown for a loop had he been the one who walked in and saw Sam in bed with another guy.

“Maybe,” Dean answered with a shrug. “The storm that came through put him a panic attack. He was so freaked out. I doubt he would have let me help him otherwise.”

Sam must have heard something in his voice that prompted a sympathetic look. “Give him time, Dean. Castiel doesn’t really do feelings.”

Dean studied his brother for a moment. “You seem pretty ok with all this.”

“I’m not,” Sam admitted. “Not yet. But I can respect how you feel on this, and right now there is a bigger picture.”

“Yep, so get going, and I’ll keep digging on this end.” After thirty minutes of looking into lore, he was still no closer to finding a definitive lead. The headway they had made last night seemed to be mocking them, the answer hovering just beyond their reach. And it didn’t help matters that Sam had just sent him a text telling him that the therapist was missing. 

He went into the room to see if Cas was awake yet. Normally he would have banged on the wall or shouted something, but today he eased over and sat on the side of the bed, his hand reaching over to gently shake him awake.

“Hey, rise and shine. Sam is on his way back, and we gotta track down this therapist.”

Cas rolled over and looked up at Dean with such an open expression that Dean had to glance away for a moment. “Dean?”

“Yeah. You doing ok?”

Cas’ eyes darted around the room, and Dean could see the moment when he remembered what had happened the night before. Eyes filled with embarrassment met his before falling away. A bright red flush appeared on his neck and cheeks.

It was on the tip of his tongue to just tell Cas about the case and forget that last night even happened at all, but he couldn’t do it, no matter how uncomfortable Cas appeared to be.

“Where’s Sam?”

“Out. He’ll be back a little later. Cas, we need to talk.”

“I should get up,” Cas commented casually although his movements were much more hurried. He pushed himself up to a sitting position but Dean’s hands on his legs halted his movements.

“Cas.”

“Thank you for your …comfort last night. I assure you it will not happen again.”

“Cas,” Dean tried yet again. “Look, man, I’m not…” he trailed off in frustration, unable to find the right words. Not that it mattered. Cas wasn’t listening anyways. He took Dean’s hesitation as a signal to leave and quickly scrambled off the bed and out of the room.

“Well, that went great,” Dean muttered, rubbing his forehead. He made up his mind right then that he wasn’t honoring Cas’ terms. No way was he walking away after this.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas was still doing his best to avoid any personal contact with Dean by the time Sam returned. Even Sam noticed the change and sent Dean a silent look of ‘What’s up?’ to which he could only shrug and shake his head. Despite everything, Dean was relieved that the solid sleep seemed to help Cas physically even if he was still emotionally distant.

Sam had been able to find the therapist’s home address. She was their only lead at this point. Dean rang the doorbell and glanced over to make sure Cas was still doing all right. He found himself doing that more often than not. Fortunately, he was holding it together well. Dean had to hand it to him. When it came to the case, Cas was all business. If Dean hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would have never guessed that he was falling apart on the inside.

He looked up and down the street. It was a quiet road without a lot of traffic and no neighbors out and about. He heard the click of the lock, and he and Cas stepped through the front door that Sam had slipped in through the back to unlock.

Splitting up, they each began searching different areas of the house. Dean couldn’t see anything that might suggest a connection to the occult or any hint that the doctor was in trouble. On his way through the dining room, he caught a glimpse of Cas in the kitchen. He was looking around, but it didn’t appear as if he was focusing on anything specific. Or at least anything that Dean could see.

“Cas? You got something.”

It took a few seconds before Cas turned in his direction and even then it seemed as if he was looking right through him. And he didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Instead, he left the room and headed up the stairs. 

“Ok, that can’t be good. Sam. Upstairs!”

He found Cas in the master bedroom at the end of the hall. The room looked the same as all the others, modestly decorated with a ‘lived-in’ look. Sam came up behind him and must have seen the same thing that Dean did.

“Castiel? Is there something here?”

Cas didn’t bother to answer him, either. Instead he kept his focus on whatever it was he was picking up on. He walked over to a large potted tree and slid it over a few feet revealing a door. He had the door open and was walking through before Dean could yell a warning to be careful. 

Walking into a small closet, Dean could now see what the décor of the house had hidden so perfectly. A shelf on the wall contained several small jars filled with herbs, and talismans hung from hooks on the opposite side. All the walls were painted with symbols similar to the ones found in the letters. 

“Well,” Sam said. “Guess this pretty much nails down that it’s the therapist.”

“Is this the altar? If we destroy this, will it stop her?” Dean asked. He reached out and placed a restraining hand on Cas’ arm as he was reaching out to touch the wall. “Careful. We’re not sure what will happen if you touch this stuff, and you’re already acting kind of trippy.”

Cas scowled at him, but lowered his arm, which was all Dean really cared about.

“This is not the altar. It merely allows the petitioner to be able to draw in and channel the power.”

“So how far away can the altar be?” Sam asked. “I mean, Sutton was killed in South Georgia, and if this room is acting like a conduit….”

“No. The letter served as the connection for Sutton. The altar would still need to be in an accessible area. If Dr. McCord has been in town up until recently, then the altar must be nearby.”

“So we keep searching the house for any hint of where this thing can be.” Dean was turning to head out of the closet when he noticed that Cas seemed to be once again focusing on something. 

“Cas? Ok, that’s it.” Dean grabbed hold of his arm again and pulled him from the room. “You’re acting a little too weird.” Of course, this would be easier if Cas would just tell him what was going on. Dean had no way of knowing if Cas was reacting to something in the house, or if it was part of his transformation. Granted, this morning had been the best thus far, but it wasn’t exactly like he had a guidebook he could consult for angels turning into humans.

He led him over to the bed. “Sit.” He was normally pleased when Cas listened to him, but now the easy acquiescence was starting to worry him. He continued searching the bedroom, making sure to keep an eye on his friend.

“Think I got something!” Sam yelled from downstairs. “Utility bills in her name for another location. Looks like it might be a house or cabin outside of town.”

“Bingo. Let’s go, Cas.” He was beyond ready to get out this place. He couldn’t sense what was here, but he didn’t like the way it was affecting Cas. It also didn’t escape his notice that he seemed more relaxed once they were back outside the house. 

“Sam, you shouldn’t go,” Cas announced.

“What?”

“Is Bobby well enough to travel?”

“Yeah, I guess, but why? We destroy this thing and it breaks the hold, right?”

“In theory, yes,” Cas agreed. “But there is a connection to Bobby already as well as to you now that you’ve said you have met her. No new victims have turned up, and the doctor now appears to be on the run. I fear that she may be able to target you or Bobby based on your previous interaction.”

“Yes, but why would she? I mean, if that’s the case, she could have gone after Bobby at any time but instead he’s been getting better.”

“There were other victims then.”

“So?” Dean asked, not really following what Sam and Cas weren’t actually saying.

“It’s hungry, Dean. Now that it’s had a taste, it’ll want more. And if Dr. McCord doesn’t have any other victims lined up, this thing that she summoned may go after anyone she’s come in contact with. Most likely the people asking questions about her.”

It was an unpleasant thought, but if anyone would know about being hungry after a small taste of power, it would be Sam and Cas. Hell, he should know after his time in Hell. He was ready to be done with this case. “All right, then. Sam, can you get Bobby and get out of here? Cas and I can handle the altar.”

“Dean, I don’t know.”

“If not for me, then Bobby. He’s a sitting duck, Sam. The further away you get him from here, the better. Right, Cas?”

“I believe so. Based on the directions you pulled up, it should not take us more than a few hours to find and destroy the altar.”

Dean could see that Sam didn’t want to leave him but would do what was best for Bobby. 

 

 

Finding the cabin had proven harder than anticipated, of course. A portion of the road had been washed out from the previous night’s rain and Dean had to detour and try to circle around. He found a clearing that should cut through some trees and pick up the path to the cabin. 

He double-checked his directions and nodded to Cas. “Ok, we’re heading the right way. This will probably circle around and intersect with the path to the cabin.” He glanced over to see if Cas was ready only to find him gazing off in the other direction. 

“Hey man, you ok?” Now was not the time for panic attacks and weird behavior. He wasn’t sure what he was going to encounter, but he’d rather have Cas watching his back instead of freaking out on him.

Cas, his face scrunched in concentration, continued to scan the woods. Another few seconds passed before he turned to face Dean. “We should hurry.”

Dean rolled his eyes and started walking. The brush wasn’t too overgrown so they made good time. When the reached the clearing on the other side and picked up the road again, Dean felt pretty confident that they would reach the cabin, destroy the altar and be done by nightfall. That confidence faded away, though, when he turned around to see how Cas was holding up.

“Dammit,” he hissed, rushing to his side and putting a supporting arm around him. He eased him down until he was sitting on the ground. “You need to start telling me what the hell is going on, man. I can’t keep guessing. Are you sick?”

Cas shook his head weakly. “I’m fine, Dean. We don’t have time for this.”

“Dude, you can barely stand.”

“I’m not sick,” Cas protested, trying to get up.

Dean pushed him back. “Then what because it sure looks like…. You son of a bitch.” It all came together and Dean knew exactly what was happening to Cas. “You can sense this thing, and it can sense you. You felt it back at the house. You knew it was hungry. That’s why you knew to tell Sam to get out of town.”

“We’re wasting time, Dean.”

“No! We’re getting out of here. This damn thing is not about to snack on you. I’ll come back without you.” He reached for Cas’ arm, but he pulled away.

“It’s too late. It’s already happening. If you don’t destroy the altar, it will continue to feed off of me until it becomes too strong even for you. Whatever this thing is, and I am certain that it is not Agdistis, will be able to roam freely if fed enough power. Dr. McCord will not be able to contain it. You must destroy the altar.”

“After everything, Cas, and you’re still keeping shit like this from me. You should have told me what was going on. This thing is feeding on traumatic emotions of assault victims and here you come on a silver platter. Terrific. Freakin’ terrific.”

“That is not what is happening, and you’re wasting time. I am not a victim, nor was I traumatized. We can discuss this after you destroy the altar.”

“Not traumatized. Well, it sure as hell is feeding on something.”

“Dean you need to calm down. And you need to remember that I am not human. Stop ascribing your emotions to me. You have no idea what I think or feel.”

“Actually, Cas, yeah, I do. Joshua didn’t just stop by to deliver information on your condition. He sent me traipsing through your dreams so I could see and feel exactly how you felt.”

The devastated look on Cas’ face made Dean want to grab him and haul him out of there, to protect him from everything. “You should have told me, man. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. I’m not a mind-reader, Cas. I’m trying, but you’re throwing up blocks all over the damn place.”

Cas’ gaze drifted off towards the East. “Dean, you have to go. You have to find the cabin.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I can take care of myself. Stop arguing with me.”

“Cas….”

“Dean, I know protection spells. I can hold it off. If you wait any longer, it will feed on you. Right now the only reason it is going after me is that I have more power. I can buy you the time you need. If you don’t do it, we may not get another chance like this.”

The hunter in him knew that Cas was right, but Dean was still royally pissed. “I swear I’m going to kick your ass when I’m done. This is the last time you pull this shit with me, Cas. The last time.”

“I promise,” Cas swore quietly. “Be careful, Dean.”

Something wasn’t right, but he had to trust that Cas could do this. He took off at a dead run, racing towards the cabin. His chest felt as if it would explode, but he didn’t slow down. There was still plenty of daylight by the time he reached the wooden building. Busting the lock on the door, he searched the small structure.

“Dammit.” The cabin was empty. There weren’t even signs that McCord was doing anything other than enjoying nature. Running to the back of the house, he saw the tool shed sitting at the edge of the tree line. That had to be it. 

Inside the small building was everything that they had been searching for. In addition to what they had seen in the closet back at the house, the shed had an altar in the far corner. The stench of blood and dismembered animal parts filled the air and had Dean gagging as he pulled out his lighter. He pulled the container of lighter fluid from his knapsack and doused the small structure. Lighting a piece of paper, he backed out the door and tossed it in.

Flames erupted in a whoosh, causing Dean to turn his face away from the burst of heat. He heard a loud screeching wail sound through the air. Cas! Making sure the building was engulfed, he headed back out in search of his friend. The wailing continued, making his skin crawl. He knew without a doubt that Cas was suffering somehow as this thing was dying. 

“Cas!” He ran back to the clearing where he had last seen him. “Cas! Dammit, answer me!” He spent another ten minutes frantically searching and calling out for him. When the wailing died down, Dean felt an icy pit form in his stomach. The woods were now eerily quiet save for his panting and shouts. 

It took Dean another ten minutes before he found him. He was lying in the brush, his body bruised and bloody.

“Cas? Come on, man. Talk to me.” If it saved Cas, then yes, Dean would admit that he was praying. Praying that Cas would wake up with nothing more than a groan. Praying that the protection spells worked. Praying that Cas had enough of his mojo left that he would recover from this. 

But no miracles were happening right now. Dean hauled him up and hurried as fast as he could to the Impala.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean hated hospitals. He hated waiting rooms even more because it always meant that someone he loved was in trouble. The doctors hadn’t told him anything other than someone would be out to speak with him soon. It had been a couple of hours and still nothing. Every time he tried to ask a nurse, he was told that someone would come find him. 

Hell, he didn’t even know if Cas could not be okay. Was he human yet? His body had taken so many hits in just the short time that Dean had been with him. And if that thing had really been feeding on Cas’ emotional state, then Cas could be worse off than Bobby was. 

Bobby. That was the only good news so far. Sam said he had snapped out of it and seemed fine. That was some comfort. 

Pacing the hallways again, Dean jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Whirling around, he was surprised to see Sam.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Bobby?”

“Sitting in a hotel room, in Oklahoma, pissed off. He insists he’s fine, but I figured the extra rest couldn’t hurt him. Just in case.”

“Good idea,” Dean agreed glancing down the hall, looking for a glimpse of someone, anyone. 

“Dean. How is he?”

“Don’t know. Nobody will tell me anything.” He would have been embarrassed at the way his voice broke, but no sense in that seeing as how the damn tears were streaking down his face again. He quickly swiped at them and resumed pacing. 

Sam rejoined him a few minutes later, steering him towards the waiting room chairs. “Sit. Drink this,” he ordered, handing him a bottle of juice. “It’s to keep your blood sugar level. I doubt you’d eat anything now, anyways.”

Dean drank the juice without really tasting it. He was about to get back up when Sam placed his hand on his shoulder. “Just wait, ok. I checked on him. He’s stable but still unconscious. He’s got quite a few cuts, some deep enough to need stitches. They’re still running tests to rule out any more serious injuries. It’s going to take them a while to finish working on him.”

“How the hell did you find all this out?”

“I told him that I was working this case and that Cas is a John Doe who is tied into an ongoing investigation. I left instructions for them to come get me as soon as the doctor was finished.”

“Why would you do that? I know you’re not….” Dean noticed that he called him Cas.

“Because I’m not an unfeeling ass, Dean. It may still take me a while to come around, but I’m not going to just let him suffer. And I know how you feel. You may think that you haven’t forgiven him, but you have. I could tell back at the motel.”

“And you’re ok with it?”

“Yeah, Dean, I’m ok with it. You’re not choosing between us. Besides, me and Bobby, we’re not the problem.”

“Meaning?”

“Cas. From what I saw, he’s steadily pushing you away. I don’t think I’m the one you have to convince.”

Dean felt her and glanced around the waiting room. He was out of his chair and across the room and in the strange woman’s face the moment she materialized. “Get the hell out of here,” he snarled.

“Dean!” Sam was at his back but not trying to restrain him. 

“Don’t you dare touch him.”

The woman arched a brow and looked at Dean with obvious disdain. “He prayed for this. He is an abomination. He knows it and wishes for this to be the end.”

He felt Sam shift away and knew what he was doing. It made him feel marginally better, as if they might have a fighting chance here.

“I don’t give a damn what he prayed for. You threw him away. You don’t get to decide you want him back now.”

“Look who’s talking,” she sneered. “Weren’t you the first one to cast him aside, all the while he was fighting to save your life?”

“Water under the bridge. He’s my family. Don’t touch him.”

“How dare you presume to tell me what to do.”

“Nathaniel.” The unassuming black man moved quietly into place next to Dean. 

Dean never took his eyes off of the woman in front of him. “I won’t give him up, Joshua. I’ll figure out a way, but you cannot just take him, not when you have no intention of helping him.”

“Remember to whom you are speaking, Dean,” Joshua admonished. “Nathaniel, this is not your decision to make. Castiel has been marked.”

The angel stared at Joshua before allowing a slight nod and disappearing. Dean wasn’t as easily placated.

“What does that mean? Is he safe? Can you help him?”

Brown eyes studied Dean. “So you have come to terms with your feelings? I only hope it is not too late. Nathaniel was here because Castiel did indeed pray for his life to be over.”

“Why not just take him in the woods then?”

“To do so would have unleashed the goddess that was trying to cross over.”

“Wait, so, it was Agdistis?”

“No,” Joshua replied. “Castiel was correct in that it was an impersonator. She was banished and trying to cross over to this realm. She was strong enough to exert energy and force, but not strong enough to take on corporeal form.”

“Why help now? Are you helping now?” Dean was tired of talking in circles. 

“Tell your brother that there is no need to attempt to banish me or any other angel. The word is being spread throughout the Host that Castiel has been marked by our Father.”

“What? God is back?”

“Castiel will continue on the path that I had previously informed you of. Too much has happened to go back, but our Father has granted him humanity. How he lives or dies will be up to him.”

Joshua was gone before Dean could blink.

 

Sam’s presence helped but the waiting was really starting to get to Dean. The adrenaline high that he had been on ever since they had entered the woods was waning and fatigue was bearing down on him.

It was another hour before the doctor finally came and found them. He listened with half an ear while Sam explained that they needed to be able to speak with him tonight in order to preserve the integrity of their investigation.

“Only for a minute,” the doctor relented. “For that many cuts and stitches, we had to give him some heavy duty painkillers. He may not be of much help to you tonight.”

Dean stepped inside the room and stopped short. Intellectually, he knew that he was going to see Cas lying in a hospital bed, but he still wasn’t prepared for the sight of the angel laid out on the stark bedding.

“You know he’s going to be ok,” Sam whispered. “The doctor said that even the deepest cuts didn’t hit anything vital. Besides, he’s still an angel.”

Dean nodded and moved closer to the bed. “Cas?”

Cas turned his head in the direction of Dean’s voice. His eyelids fluttered for a moment before opening to reveal glassy blue eyes.

“You doing ok, Cas?” It was an inane question and even in his drugged state, Cas seemed to agree.

“Hurts,” he rasped.

“Yeah, you took a few hits. The doc gave you some good stuff, though.”

“No. Feeling. Falling. Hurts to remember. Burns.”

Dean had a pretty good idea of what Cas was referring to, and there was no remedy for it. He glanced over at Sam and wasn’t surprised to see him watching their exchange with sympathetic eyes. 

He edged closer and carefully took one of Cas’ bandaged hands into his own. “We’re here, Cas. You’ve got us.”

“We…had….a deal.”

“Well, you know how I feel about those.” He wanted to tell him right then that there was no way he was honoring that deal, but Cas had already drifted off.

 

 

Dean stood outside the door, trying to figure out his next move. He had stayed with Cas until the early hours of the morning before finally getting thrown out. The hospital had called later that morning and said that he was awake but not responding to anyone. 

“The hell, Dean? How long are you going to stand outside the door?”

He was grateful for Sam’s support, but in this case, he’d have rather done this alone. Holding the light beige bunny rabbit in his arm, he was beginning to think that maybe Sam was trying to prank him after all. He had given Dean some long explanation about having something non-threatening without baggage to bond with. 

Cas was a surly pain in the ass on a good day. From what the nurses were saying, it was a bad day, and walking in and giving him a stuffed animal had the potential to make it an even worse day.

“Dean, just trust me.”

He was relieved to see Cas awake and more alert than he had been a few hours ago. He was sure that he heard him come in even though he didn’t turn his head to acknowledge him.

He made several attempts to engage him but none of them were working. Frustrated, Dean wanted to toss the rabbit and go outside and punch the wall, but he remembered the incredibly long pep talk that Sam had given him that morning. For all intents and purposes, Cas was like a newborn, and they would need to be patient with him. Dean wanted to call ‘bs’ but Sam might have a point. Still he felt like an idiot as he tried to reach out to him. 

“Ok, look. I’m not going anywhere so you might as well get used to it. Sam, Bobby, and I are here for the long haul. I know you don’t believe me, and I know that you don’t want to go through this. I know, Cas. I get it, but you don’t have to do it alone. You said it once, we have been through so much crap together. Hurt feelings and disillusions aside, I honestly care about you, and I know you care about us. It’s going to take trust on both sides. You asked me once to stand behind you, and I didn’t. But I am now. I’m standing right beside you. If you’ll let me.” 

It was the longest, most emotional speech he had made in a very long time, and he meant every word of it. He had come so close to losing Cas, and he wasn’t going to take that chance again. 

But Cas obviously still wasn’t ready to hear this as he didn’t bother to react to Dean’s words. He didn’t even look at him. He just kept staring towards the window. 

Dean sighed and placed the stuffed toy on the bed. “It’ll be another day or so before they release you, and I thought it might be nice for you to have a friend so you’re not alone at night. Um, yeah….I’ll be back in a while, ‘kay?” He needed some air. He knew this wouldn’t be easy, but he and Sam had agreed that Dean would have a better chance of getting a reaction from Cas so it had to be him putting himself out there. But damn, it hurt to have Cas not even acknowledging him, to know that Cas had preferred death.

He reached for the door handle, anger suddenly coursing through him. He spun back around and stared at Cas’ stiff and unrelenting posture and his anger flared even hotter.

“You hate me that much, that you can’t even try? You can’t even think about forgiving me, after everything?” He stalked over to the bed and leaned down until he was right in his face. “We get a second chance, and you’d rather die than spend it with me.”

“You don’t understand,” Cas grunted, finally acknowledging the hunter.

“You’re right, I don’t,” he snapped. “You tell me that you did this for me, that you thought of us as family. Well, families take hits, Cas. You’ve seen me, Sam, and Bobby do this. We fall down but then come back even stronger. We have a chance to do this, and you’re throwing it away.”

“What would you have me do?”

“You can stay with us. Hunt with me and Sam.”

Cas shook his head slowly. “I don’t think… I don’t know how long,” he stopped short, letting out a small huff of annoyance. “I can’t do this.”

“You won’t even try.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“Yeah, I imagine you don’t,” Dean sighed, his anger leaving as quickly as it had ignited. He took a step back out of his personal space. “But I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t feeling a little bit of that. I’d also be lying if I said that I wasn’t still angry and pissed off. Here’s the thing. There’s going to be a lot of rough patches along the way, a lot of hurt feelings on both sides. Pretty much no way around that.”

Dean watched the emotions play across Cas’ face and could see the fear and indecision that he was desperately trying to hide. Never let it be said that Dean Winchester didn’t know how to press an advantage. “You almost destroyed the world for me, would have died for me. Are you telling me now that you can’t live for me?”

 

Defeated, he walked back into the waiting room and saw another family sitting in the far corner. He wasn’t sure why they were there, but he watched them as they talked softly to each other, reaching out and giving each other reassuring touches.

He sat down in one of the chairs, watching them, wondering what he was going to do about Cas.

“Are you serious?” Sam dropped down in the chair next to him. “What did you do? Throw the rabbit at him and run?”

Dean shot his brother a nasty glare along with a questionable hand gesture. “Yeah, because a stuffed rabbit solves everything, genius.”

“What? Did you really think that Cas was going to make it easy for you? Dean?”

He shifted in his chair. Leave it to Sam to make it sound so simple. He wasn’t the one in there pouring out his heart. Hell, this was still hard for him. Just because he didn’t want to toss Cas aside didn’t mean that he wasn’t still hurting over everything that had happened.

“Dean…are we in this? I mean…are we really doing this?”

“I thought you were ok with this.”

“I’m not asking about me, Dean.”

“What the hell, Sam?”

“I’m just saying. If it were me in that hospital room, you wouldn’t be out here feeling sorry for yourself. You’d be figuring out a way to make it work.”

“You know how he is. What am I supposed to do, kidnap him?” Dean snapped.

“Don’t act like you’re above it. Dean, I’ve been your little brother all my life. I’ve seen how you get about family. So has Cas. He has to believe you’re fighting for him and not what he should be or because there’s an obligation to fulfill.”

Dean finally looked at Sam. “Is that how we made you feel?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Sometimes. Long time ago. When I wanted out. I get it now, that it was about family, but at the time, I thought it was more about me stepping up as a hunter.”

“Sam, I’m sorry….”

“Dean,” he cut him off. “We’re good. Really. The problem isn’t out here.”

Returning to the room, he pushed the door open, quietly, still unsure of what to say. He stopped in the doorway when he saw Cas with his arms crossed over his chest, hugging the bunny to him. He didn’t know what sound he made that alerted Cas to his presence but suddenly blue eyes locked onto his.

Seeing the glint of moisture, Dean knew that his earlier words had hit home. He walked over to the bed and sat along side, letting his shoulders bump against Cas’. Words still failed him now, but he hoped his presence would convey what his voice couldn’t. Watching the single tear track down Cas’ cheek, he was pretty sure it had.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to Supernatural. Just having fun writing stories.


End file.
